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see the soul singer in the session band shredded to ribbons beneath a microphone stand felt the quickness of pity like a flash in a pan for the soul singer in the session band

now a red carpet bagger makes a blackberry call to the plastic piranhas in the city of salt wasted wheat paste campaign post no bills on the wall you mean nothing to no one but that’s n*body’s fault

see the soul singer in the session band shredded to ribbons beneath a microphone stand felt the quickness of pity like a flash in a pan for the soul singer in the session band

i had a lengthy discussion about the power of myth with a post-modern author who didn’t exist in this fict*tious world all reality twists i was a hopeless romantic now i’m just turning tricks

just like that soul singer in the session band shredded confetti beneath a microphone stand saw the conflict of interest slipping cash in the hand of the soul singer in the session band

his room is on fire since he painted it red there are a stranger’s silk sequins at the foot of the bed he has been to weddings and funerals but he still never wept now sorrow is pleasure when you want it instead

just like the soul singer in the session band wailed like an infant atop a white baby grand we’ll need every sand bag and every man to save the soul singer in the session band

headlights or taillights it’s a flip of a coin i have been coming and going since the day i was born and i followed the breadcrumbs but i never got home i grew old in an instant now i am all on my own

just like that soul singer in the session band shredded to nothing beneath the microphone stand saw the wave of the future through the crack of the dam drowned the soul singer in the session band bless the soul singer in the session band